At first, it was a goal, an inspiration for my own life. An innocent thought that launched hope for something similar that I could maybe have for myself.
A sudden awareness that the kind of woman I didn’t realize existed was actually out there. One who could match not just my humor and wit, but my visions for building a future. My goals. Not just the fun shit, but the real shit, too.
Most of the girls I’ve fucked with have been around for a good time, not a long time, ya know? But Ellie? She opened my eyes to wanting more.
Then watching that thing that made me dare dream for something more open up to me, in little bits and pieces, share herself, what makes her tick, even the struggles she goes through… I’d be lying if I said it didn’t affect me something fierce.
And when she finally ended things with the one who’d been holding her back? Holding her down? Keeping her from blooming into the stunning creature she is, being that woman around the clock?
Fuck.
It was like leveling up to an entirely new form of oxygen, some hyper-concentrated substance, every breath so goddamn invigorating; my lungs soaking in every morsel of life from the environment around me, fueling me, to the point that I’m so damnreadyto fight for what I want.
I don’t expect her to be ready anytime soon.
But I’ll be here. Ready to show her what could be, whenever she is.
In the meantime? I’m determined to make this apprenticeship a raging success. To get what I need to make my career take off, and to make her life as easy as I can while I’m here.
Which is why I’m putting so much more work than necessary into this project Thomas put us on last month.
Today’s the day my illustration goes through the channels (internally then with the client), for final approval to launch. It shouldn’t be a big deal, I only put a few hours into it in the office (that’s all they had budget for), but I was determined to make this test campaign a success. For the client, sure, for my own experience, sure. But mostly? For Ellie.
Seeing the subtle sneers, the covert looks sent her way in the first meeting we did with the account manager and sales rep when we pitched the concept…it lit a fire in me. Thomas didn’t even notice the disrespect toward his own daughter happening right under his nose, too distracted by whatever emails were coming in on his phone as we delivered our proposal. But fuck that old one, Tony. Total tool.
She and I are going to show them, together, how fucking brilliant she and that beautiful mind of hers are. He can take his archaic, misogynistic contempt for ideas that aren’t his own and fuck right off back to theMad Menera with them. If that stick-in-the-mud, one-dimensional shit had worked in the first place, we wouldn’t have been yanked to fucking fix it for them. She has plenty of herownclients we could’ve been working on. But no, we’re doing a favor for these dickbags, and that’s how Tony fucking treats her? Nope. Not gonna fly for long.
I’ve put in some time outside of the office—don’t ask how much, it’s not important—to really make this design pop, give it a lot of extra detail, make it fuckingadorable, if I do say so myself. I studied existing successful graphics, worked the concept over with my own style, and no one with tastebuds and eyeballs isn’t going to love this fucking thing.
Next, they’ll love the client’s pizza.
Never thought I’d be so fucking passionate about a two-dollar slice, but here we are.
“Okay, I’m ready,” comes the sweet, breathy voice of the genius in question from her desk at my left side.
I turn to face her, a smirk already on my face, and try not to stare. She’s got this outfit on today that makes her curves look unreal. Some sort of silky white top, these sleeves that go down past her elbows, but it tucks in tight to the knee-length navy skirt she has on that just doessomuch for that body I’ve let myself start looking since she’s been single. She hasn’t caught me yet, but I’m getting less and less careful as the days go by and my patience for the long-term plan wanes. I’m ready for the endgame, but we haven’t even gotten off the starting block yet. As soon as that pistol sounds, it’s on.
I grab the tablet from my desk and roll my chair over to her side, not minding the fact that I scoot up a little closer than I would’ve a few weeks ago.
“Are you ready to have your mind blown by the cutest anthropomorphic pizza slices you’ve ever seen?”
She blinks those blue-gray eyes at me a couple of times, more excited than you’d think, but I’ve learned that’s how she is. Looks forward to everything, genuinely. Pure as shit, this woman.
“I am,” she says solemnly.
With a flourish like I’m some sort of sleight of hand magician,real fucking smooth, Asher, I unlock the iPad and flip it to show her the finished graphic.
Her eyes widen larger than you’d think they can go, her pink lips forming a little O as she takes it all in. The soft colors, the pop of the hero character (a slice of pepperoni), his speech bubble, the contrast of it all, the symmetry, the way it all blends.
She’s not giving it a half second glance over with a trite chuckle like virtually every other person I’ve shown my original ideas to in the past.
She’s realizing how much work went into it. The unrelenting perfectionist I was as I finessed it.
She’snotrealizing I did it for her. But that’s okay.
The appreciation on her face is worth it. The glow emanating from her. I wish I could say that’s from, and for, me, but I’ve spent well over a month working out of her office for most of my days. I know this is how she gets over anything and everything. But the fact that I did cause this one? The hit of pride is like a bump of the best party drug I ever had.
“Asher, it’s phenomenal!” She breathes the words, and I inhale them in, another line straight to my soul. Twice the rush, without the burn. I want to give her every reason to make that face, that tone of awe, as often as I can. But can’t show her that yet.
